Oh my gosh, time to fangirl/ fanboy/ fanGrell! I got off my lazy butt and updated this! Feel free to shoot me as many times as you want for taking so long. It won't take as long next time. Promise.
It's been a week now and I still haven't seen a decent time to go through with my plan of making Sebastian screw up. But I might not need to anymore. He seems to be messing up all on his own. Don't ask me why, but he's often late when I call him and when he does finally come, he seems so hurried. And often, his tailcoat has been left behind, so he simply has on his white shirt and gray vest. His tie is often undone or carelessly tied and the collar of his shirt is drooping down enough to reveal part of his neck.
Not that I've looked.
Because that would be improper.
But I haven't exactly pointed it out to him.
Hey, don't judge me! He's a demon, so of course he's somewhat attractive! If he wasn't, then how would he lure in humans and such? Besides, I've already admitted he looked perfect anyways, so shut up.
Oh god, now look where I am. Yelling at my diary in writing. Have I gone mad?
Thinking about medication,
Ciel sighed and closed his diary again. He would admit to actually becoming attached to writing in it. He had actually thought about thanking Sebastian for making him do it in the first place but that would involve him actually admitted to his demon that he liked the diary. And that was something he wouldn't do. He set it and his pen off to the small table by the armchair he was sitting in and pulled the book he was actually reading closer to him. Well, actually, he had no interest in reading the book; he just needed something to do. His eyes kept skimming the paragraph at the top of the page without taking in any information. Being a demon was ever so dull.
"Sebastian," he said quietly, knowing his butler would hear him, "Come here."
A minute past. Two. Two and a half. "Young master?" Sebastian burst through the door without knocking, "I'm sorry, young master; I was otherwise occupied." Once again, his hair was awfully disheveled; the top button of his shirt was undone, as was his tie, which was hanging loosely around his neck. All Ciel would have to do would be to beckon his butler slightly closer, and grab the silken tie to pull his face down to meet his and the elder of the two would lean over him, making his neck crane back to see him and he'd say…
He blinked and put these shameful thoughts away with a faint blush and a promise to himself to analyze them later to perhaps dispose of them permanently. "Sebastian, what time is it?"
His butler stared at him dumbfounded, "My lord, there's a clock on the wall there behind you…" He trailed off, dumbfounded at the question.
"I'm aware of that, Sebastian," Ciel said truthfully, "But my question wasn't 'Where's the clock?' It was, 'What time is it?'"
"Young Master, if I may inquire something? You can, ahem, tell time, correct?"
"Of course I can, do you think I'm daft?" the younger scoffed, "I merely prefer for you to tell me."
The butler stared down at the small boy in confusion. He seemed to be having a 'choose your battles' debate in his mind. He eventually sighed and conceded, glancing at the clock, "It is 3:45, my lord."
"Thank you, Sebastian. You may go now," Ciel dismissed him with a wave of his hand as he returned to his book.
But the demon didn't leave, "…Is that all you require, Young Master?"
"Yes. I said you may go now. Are you having trouble with your ears today?"
Sebastian hesitated another moment before bowing, "Of course not; I apologize. Call again if you need me." When he left, Ciel sighed. This was his life now; pointlessly annoying his butler in amateur ways. He felt like such a child.
But that didn't stop him from doing it.
Sebastian returned to the kitchen quickly, taking his gloves back off and setting them on the counter. The counters were a mess, flour and sugar covered most of the floor and the sink was overflowing with dirty dishes. He had to stop trying to make this stupid cake. But he also had to make Ciel happy. Which one was more important?
The second one. His young master was far more important than anything else.
So then why couldn't he get his head together and focus?
I was wondering about something. It's… rather embarrassing. My thoughts have turned to shameful and somewhat inappropriate places lately. I don't know what to do about them and I'm afraid they're only getting worse. I wonder if it's just because of my teenage age or because of something else even more embarrassing. Should anyone other than you find out about this, there's a rather large possibility that I would die of shame and embarrassment.
I'm not saying I dislike these thoughts but I'm not saying I like them. But when I have them, my body heats up in a rather… pleasant way.
I… cannot believe I just wrote that. Ignore that. Please, please, please ignore that.
…And now I'm pleading with the same inanimate object I was previously yelling at… Great…
Going to research medications,